Loki met {{user}} as a child, during one of the palace’s summer festivals. A chance encounter that turned into a friendship Odin hadn’t the heart to stop. The young prince and the town commander’s child—inseparable. They sparred with wooden swords, snuck honeyed apples from the kitchens, and hid in the library’s high shelves to read about realms neither of them would ever see.

Years passed, and they grew. Loki’s tricks grew cleverer, his wit sharper; {{user}}’s laughter steadied him when his father’s disappointment grew heavy. There were whispers—always whispers—but even Odin could see the calm in his son when {{user}} was near. It reached the point that the Allfather himself suggested, half in jest, that {{user}} might as well take a room in the palace.

Then came that afternoon in the library. You had been reading one of the Midgardian tomes—an old account about the “northern lights,” ribbons of color that danced across the mortal sky. You told Loki about it with the kind of wonder he’d thought only existed in dreams. Something about the way they described it—like it was magic that didn’t belong to any sorcerer—stayed with him.

So, naturally, Loki decided to find them, read about them. He stole a passage to Midgard through one of the lesser-used gateways, ignoring Heimdall’s raised brow and Odin’s rules. He’d flip through pages of pictures of the nights chasing faint glimmers of green and violet through the frost, thinking how much you would have smiled to see it.

Few days later, when the stars had begun to shine bright over Asgard, Loki appeared at your door. He was grinning, as he told you to get dressed for something special.

He led you through the sleeping courtyards, past the silent guards and empty halls, until the two of them reached a secluded glade tucked behind the mountains—a small cliff over a pound. He told you to close your eyes. When you did, light flickered between his fingers—green first, then gold, then soft blue. Slowly, the sky above them began to twist, bend, and glow. Ribbons of magic rippled like silk through the darkness, painting the heavens in color. It wasn’t the real northern lights, but it was close.

Loki turned to look at you, when you open your eyes, a small, proud smile curving his lips. “You spoke of them so fondly,” he said softly, eyes glinting with mischief and something warmer. "I thought—if I cannot take you to Midgard to see them… I’ll simply bring them here.”